


Fitting Room

by OwlinAutumn



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Even if there is technically no plot, Hand Jobs, In Public, M/M, Mostly ..., PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Presents for Awesome Writers, Public Sex, Shopping, Sometimes tagging accurately makes it feel like I'm spoiling the plot, Suits, Treating Your Sweetie, Vague Suit Porn, You know what I mean, shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-01
Updated: 2007-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlinAutumn/pseuds/OwlinAutumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack takes Ianto shopping for shirts, Ianto underestimates Jack's capacity for revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitting Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misslucyjane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/gifts).



“Hm.” Jack fingered the slick, soft sleeve of a dark blue suitcoat, one eyebrow cocked thoughtfully. He pushed it against the next along the circular rack and caught the collar of one a few jackets down, this one black and white pinstriped and far too big for Ianto. The pattern was amusing – bold, definitely, and way too much so.

“I’m not wearing that unless it’s fancy dress and I’m some sort of mobster from Chicago or something,” Ianto said primly, stepping up behind him and peering over his shoulder. He had hangers strung on one wrist, a number of his own selections, and none of them coats. “Besides, I thought we were here to look at shirts, not suits.”

“Oh, but I like the whole outfit,” A huge grin broke out on Jack’s face as he looked over his shoulder at Ianto. “And besides, I think I owe you for ruining a couple.”

Ianto sighed, leaning against Jack, his hand reaching out for one or two blazers, paging through them. There was a lovely black that had burgundy shots through it, and a blue pinstripe that was much more subtle than the jacket Jack had been fingering. “I suppose you might. There was that one that got slime all over it from that exploding marsh Martian.”

“Whaddya think of this one?” Jack said, pulling out a rather handsome looking black jacket with a bright blue lining on the inside. “And you know that’s not the kind of ruining I mean.” He dangled the hook from his fingers, turning his head so that Ianto could see the merry twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

“I think the inside’s a bit flashy for me, thank you, Sir,” Ianto drawled, trying not to smirk. “And I thought you’d already … repaid me for the other. Moreso, in fact.”

“Think so?” The Captain chuckled, laying the jacket down and pulling out another, a black made of a beautiful fabric that just hinted at a striped pattern. “Maybe that means you owe me. Still, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna buy you something.”

Ianto draped his selected shirts on the rack, leaning his chin on Jack’s shoulder boldly. Normally, the archivist wasn’t that forward in public, somewhat uncomfortable with public displays of affection. However, there was almost no one in the department, save an elderly woman fingering ties at the other end of the wide space, and the attendant who was tagging a pile of new merchandise at the register and paying no attention to them whatsoever. He felt comfortable enough to run his lips against Jack’s ear briefly, a hand sneaking around his lover’s waist, hidden by the suits on the rack.

“Oh, so I owe you now?” The vowels tingled along Jack’s earlobe, making him shiver as Ianto slipped his hand inside the greatcoat and stroked his stomach with his palm. Jack could feel the delicious, almost devious smirk on Ianto’s lips, the one he loved so much because it looked so damn dirty. “However could I repay you, Sir?”

Jack was about to reply when that hand snaked suddenly southward, palming his cock through his trousers. Instead, he bit back a gasp, his hips jerking slightly in surprise, dark eyebrows shooting upwards. He did let himself laugh – Ianto didn’t often come out of his shell in public places, much less grope him openly like this, and it both amused and aroused him; the second, especially, as it was becoming rather obvious. When he did find his voice again, it was slightly strangled and a bit thick. “Well, that’s definitely one way. Ianto Jones, I’m surprised at you!”

“Why, sir,” Ianto purred against his neck, his fingers easily unfastening Jack’s button and slipping his hand inside, his fingers finding hot skin, slipping around that thickness. “You know I’m very resourceful. I should think I could do little to surprise _you._ ”

“Oh,” Jack gasped, partially in answer and partially because of the palm currently beginning to stroke his cock. “W-well, it’s actually quite … nice. I like surprises.” There was an incredulous grin on his lips and he was trying not to be too obvious – after all, they were in the middle of a goddamn department store, and although it was early afternoon on a workday and therefore nearly the equivalent of a ghost town, they were still out in the open. It was rapidly turning him on, and yet he couldn’t do much other than pant softly and grip the circular bar in front of him, his hips jerking against that hand.

Ianto’s fingers squeezed and slid slowly, the movement entirely in his wrist as he stroked Jack. It was a bit difficult, he was finding, to keep everything as still as he could save for that hidden hand, but that was part of the fun. His hips shoved back slightly, pressing Jack harder into the rack of blazers, against his teasing hand. “Oh, you _like_ surprises? Hm. Well, then … ”

Suddenly, Ianto’s weight, his warmth, and more importantly, his hand were gone. A disappointed grunt left Jack’s throat as the other man took the hangers of his shirts and the two jackets that Jack had pulled, snagged a third one as well and turned quickly on his heel, heading for the fitting rooms. Jack watched him with wide eyes, unsure as to exactly what to do with his pants hanging open against the rack and a raging hard-on.

The younger man’s smirk was, momentarily, internal as he snagged a number from the attendant, whose nose never came out from his tagging, and made his way into the empty back fitting room to find himself a cubicle. He didn’t risk looking back at Jack – that was part of the fun, part of the tease. Pretend you’re aloof, unmoved, uninterested. He was probably still standing there gawking anyways. Now he just had to wait for the payback, and he wondered how Jack would do it. Tie him down back at the Hub and tease him within an inch of his life, probably.

Ianto underestimated Jack's capacity for revenge.

The door had hardly shut behind him, tie loosened and jacket hardly off when payback came. It was opened again swiftly and banged shut. Ianto heard the click of the lock and began to turn when large, demanding hands pushed him against the back wall making him give a rather undignified squeak. Jack’s breath was hot on the back of his neck and he couldn’t help squirming as he felt the thick hardness that he himself had caused grinding against the seam of his finely tailored pants.

“You, my friend, are a cocktease,” Jack growled low, his hands already busy at Ianto’s zip. The heady speed of hands and the roughness of his lover’s voice already had Ianto panting.

“I’ve been told I’m very good at it, Sir,” Ianto mumbled, resting his cheek against the wall, his palms bracing him as Jack shoved his slacks and boxers down just enough. Jack pulled his hips backwards, his ass rubbing shamelessly into Jack’s cock and he was suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of hot flesh against flesh, the rough feel of the other man’s trousers against the back of his thighs. He bit his bottom lip hard to swallow a moan and reached back to tug Jack’s slacks down a bit further, make it more comfortable, but his hand was prized quickly away.

“A little too good, maybe,” Jack rumbled, pressing the other man’s hand back against the wall. Jack liked it rough at times, in more than one way, and fabric could be so exquisite. His other fingers were now sliding up under the soft linen of Ianto’s shirt, tracing his spine, searching for warmth with his palm. “Ought to apologize for getting a guy’s … _hopes_ up like that and just leaving him hanging.”

Ianto snorted at the bad innuendo. “Mm, I’m so … so sorry, Sir.” His tone was anything but - dryly sarcastic, his satisfied smirk almost audible. Ianto hadn’t planned for this reaction, exactly, but he was definitely enjoying the results as he felt slick fingers sliding home and struggled to relax. “You always, always … unhhh … carry lube, don’t you?”

“Always be prepared,” Jack said raggedly into his ear as he pumped his fingers a few times, the motto appropriate for his current action as well as his preparedness. “It’s not just for the Boy Scouts. Now, shhh … “ The last bit was a hot whisper against his ear and then Ianto felt that blunt tip pushing up into him. His fingers scrabbled at the wall, his ass pressing back towards Jack as the Captain sunk himself deep inside Ianto.

“Ohh, _bugger._ ”

“I’m trying,” Jack chuckled in his ear, giving it a nip before his hips began to pump, a slow, steady and most of all quiet rhythm. One of Jack’s hands was on his hip, but the other had slid around under his shirt, covering his heart and holding him close against Jack, an almost tender gesture.

As Jack’s hips picked up, though, it was anything but tender. It was slick and fast, and _oh, god,_ he could feel Jack’s pants rough on his exposed upper thigh, the Captain’s woolen greatcoat falling around his body and teasing at his bare hips. There was so much sensation, and although Ianto was a bit disappointed in the lack of skin, the rather thorough fucking he was getting was more than making up for it. Ianto was trying so hard not to make any noise, and Jack was managing to stay generally silent save for an almost aching, low grunt now and again, the sound of their bodies meeting much dampened by all the fabric they were both still ensconced in.

The footsteps outside, therefore, made Jack freeze. He slipped one hand free and pulled Ianto close as the both of them tried to pant as silently as possible. Someone was in the fitting room with them.

It felt like an eternity and then they heard a tap on the first room, a squeal as the door opened, then the same on the next. It was the attendant checking for clothes and seeing if there was anyone who needed assistance. Not exactly a welcome intrusion, and Ianto thanked every god he could think of that Jack had the forethought to lock the door behind him. Still, his heart felt like it had stopped, and they both clung together as the tapping came closer.

When the door didn’t swing open on the fourth stall, the attendant leaned towards the door, calling out, “Sir? Pardon me. Do you need anything?”

Jack slipped his hand over Ianto’s mouth, causing the other man to frown at the gesture – as if he couldn’t be trusted to keep his mouth shut – and coughed, “Er, yeah. Thanks. I’m … um, I’m doing fine. Ah!”

Ianto had bit at one of Jack’s fingers in protest.

“Are you sure, sir?”

“This one’s a little _tight,_ ” Jack grunted, getting his revenge by thrusting hard once into Ianto. The other man bit Jack’s finger again, this time to stifle a groan, Jack’s other hand tightening on his hip. That had felt too good, and this was just so dangerous.

“Um … Maybe you could do me a favor,” He continued in what Ianto considered to be a tone far too collected, considering he was buried cock deep in him. Jack reached out and grabbed all the shirts and the jackets, pulling them off their hangers and slung them over the top of the cubicle door. “Can you go and get these for me, each one in one smaller and one larger size? They just don’t look right, but I want to check and see if it’s because they’re too small or too large. Thanks!”

There was a pause from outside, then a rustle. The attendant’s voice, now slightly peevish, replied, “Certainly, sir. I’ll see what I can do.” Hopefully he only suspected that Jack was an ass, and not that he was in the middle of screwing someone else’s. A few seconds later he had moved along and the fitting room was empty again, save for them.

“You bit me,” Jack growled in his ear after removing his hand.

“You put it over my _mouth,_ Sir, what did you expe-” Ianto hissed in return, a sound that was cut off with a rough groan as Jack thrust roughly into him again, and then again.

“’S ‘cause _you’re … so … noisy,_ ” Jack whispered harshly, his hips thrusting to accent his words as he picked up the pace again. That was nonsense, of course, and Ianto opened his mouth to either respond or moan, but decided against either and took a deep breath instead as it would’ve only proved Jack’s point. Jack just grinned.

Of course, the mood had been ruined only slightly, the other man’s intrusion almost more arousing than it was disrupting, and Jack felt almost more turned on by nearly being discovered. Ianto was fighting back whimpers, the tip of his achingly hard cock rubbing against the same hard wall that his cheek was plastered against. “Jack, please just fucking touch me, already!”

That was an easy request to fill, although Jack had been tempted to just let him go a little longer. But they were both so close at this point, and he liked hearing Ianto pant just as much as he liked hearing him beg. Besides, he was trying to be the better man here, so he wrapped his fingers around Ianto’s cock, stroking him as forcefully as he was taking him. It didn’t take much long after that for Ianto to give a whining groan and come all over the wall.

Ianto was already so tight, seeing as he couldn’t part his legs much because he mostly still had his pants on. The muscle contractions, therefore, just made it that much harder to hang on. Jack had amazing stamina, after all, but Ianto Jones had such a sweet ass, so it was infinitely more difficult. Once his lover had climaxed, Jack grabbed his hips, pumping faster, wanting more. Three, four, five times as those walls clenched around him and then Jack was coming deep inside Ianto, pressing his face to his young lover’s shirt as he groaned his name hoarsely.

Afterwards, it took them a little while to be more than just a couple piles of nerve endings, clinging to one another and trying not to fall against the come-streaked wall. Wipes and Kleenex appeared magically, same as the lube, Ianto still trembling as he was pulled out of and gently wiped clean. Finally Jack pulled himself upright and Ianto could pull himself together before collapsing onto the small provided seat. He only winced slightly.

“Friction burns,” He said, his mouth feeling a little like it was full of cotton. “I’m going to feel that in the morning.” His lips slid into a cheeky smile as he looked up at Jack with stormy blue eyes. “Of course, I won’t ask Owen for anything to help. He’ll just make snide remarks that, while annoying and uncalled for, will be far too close to home to stomach. I’ll just swing by the chemists when we head back.”

Jack laughed as he finished tucking in his shirt and then sat down next to his lover with a sigh. His hand slid up that well-fitted leg and fingered a come splash mark on his thigh.

“I think I owe you another suit … “

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as a gift for MissLucyJane for the 1st round of Get TW Laid over on LJ. Many thanks to my betas of long ago, JayGoose and Spaz, for their help on this.


End file.
